


A (Not So) Bad Day

by bereniceofdale_archive (bereniceofdale)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bard and Thranduil are having a shitty day, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, then awkwardness and cuteness happens, there's a bit of Elrond/Lindir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereniceofdale/pseuds/bereniceofdale_archive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thranduil kisses some stranger in the street in order to make his ex-boyfriend believe he's been moving on perfectly well. Said-stranger happens to be Bard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A (Not So) Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sailingonstardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailingonstardust/gifts).



> I had a huge amount of fun writing this. I hope you'll like it :3  
> (Update 25/04/16: I'm absolutely aware the characters are quite (if not completely) ooc, but hey at least the story is fun, I guess?)

Gideon Masters was the most disgusting person Thranduil Oropherion had ever met. If he could just kick him out and tell him to never come back, he would without a second thought. But the despicable man had influence in the Town of Dale, possessing the power to shut down Thranduil’s business should he desire. So as usual, the hairdresser did his job with a forced smile, not even trying to make it genuine; struggling to keep his temper under control, forcing himself to be polite.

Today however, things were going particularly... bad, and Thranduil was finding it extremely difficult to not tell Masters how much he hated him and how he sick he felt every time his fingers had to touch the man's filthy hair. For Thranduil was having a very bad day, so much so, that he just wanted to leave his hairdressing salon, go back home, bury himself under the soft covers of his bed, sleep and hope the next day would not be as terrible as today was.

Unfortunately, Masters had apparently decided to be an unpleasant schmuck more than as was typical, much to Thranduil's exasperation; that was fast turning to anger, and everything he’d been holding back for the past few years concerning Gideon threatened to explode.

Perhaps he would have handled the situation better had Gideon not been his last customer of the day—"better" simply meaning keeping his cool and playing the usual "I'm just gonna ignore you" game. Gideon was presently letting Thranduil know how he found his hair too long and thought he should cut some of it because it made him look _gay_ and that was _obviously_ not a good thing for _such a respectable_ person.

And that was the last straw.

“Will you just shut the fuck up!” Thranduil snapped, resisting the urge to grab his trimmer and shave what was left of the Gideon’s awful hair.

“I'm sorry?” Gideon stared in shock at the other’s reflection in the mirror, offended. Thranduil wanted to slap him until he passed out.

“I said: _shut the fuck up._ ” Eyes like daggers laced with ice and a tone to match, Thranduil gripped the scissors in his hand tighter and that was the only thing that prevented the older man from replying. Gideon sat straighter in the comfortable chair and looked away, unable to hold the weight of Thranduil's gaze upon him. As Thranduil, Masters made one last mistake nonetheless: he muttered under his breath, not low enough, and some words akin to "fag" did not escape Thranduil’s fine hearing. And that, broke the camel's back.

“Okay, I think we're done here,” Thranduil said, surprising himself by not yelling, for the anger in his chest was _burning_.

“What?” The man looked up at him, completely confused, as if he had not realized what was happening and most importantly, why it was happening. “You're not even done yet!”

“Oh yes, I am.” Thranduil smirked, putting his materials aside. _Homophobic prick._

“You can't do this!” Masters exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Just watch me,” Thranduil replied, removing the cutting cape from his client’s shoulders. Sending Gideon away was risky for his job, but right now, he didn't even care. He was sure his friend, Celeborn, would do everything to help him, and in the worst case scenario, he wasn't that fond of the place anyway. This could even be an opportunity to start anew, somewhere better in town.

“Here, your coat,” Thranduil said as he pushed Gideon towards the door. “Goodbye Mr. Masters, may you never come back.”

And with a cold smile, Thranduil closed the door before Gideon Masters could say anything.

*

Meanwhile...

“Fili, Kili, will you please get your feet off of your desks!”

At the other end of the street, Bard Bowman, History teacher at Dale's Academy, was having a day as bad as Thranduil Oropherion's, so much so, that he looked at the clock on the wall more often than his students (which was, let's be honest, quite... remarkable). The only thing he wanted right now was for the bell to signal the end of class, go home , kiss his children a good evening and taking an early night of well-deserved sleep.

The Durin brothers did as asked with heavy sighs, making Bard roll his hazel eyes at them.

“So,” Bard started as he turned to face the blackboard, determined to write some important dates and finish his lesson once and for all, despite his tired-with-everything state of mind. Chuckles rose from behind him, but he chose to ignore them. “The battle of Verdun was one of the deadliest of the Great W...”

“Sir,” someone said, “Excuse me, sir?”

He knew that voice. Tauriel.

“What is it?” Bard asked with a sigh of his own. He turned once again, meeting Tauriel's—and pretty much all of the class'—grin. Some were trying to hide their giggles behind their hands, making Bard raise an eyebrow.

“Umm... there's a paper on your back.”

“A pa...” Bard reached over his shoulder and his fingers found the object in question. Frowning, he looked upon it. Written in big black letters was, _" **I suck dicks** ”_. The class held a collective breath, but Kili couldn't hide his grin. Any other day Bard would have smiled, maybe even laughed and would have given the one responsible for the joke—of quite bad taste, let's face it too—an extremely boring essay to write and then everything would have been forgotten.

However today was a bad day, and Bard wasn't in the mood to let it go.

“Who did this?” He knew the answer of course, but it was a chance he was giving the student; a chance he didn't take. “Alright, Kili. Come here, take this and go to the headmaster's office.”

Kili's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “But, Mr. Bowman!”

“I'll make sure you went and told the truth. Off you go now.”

Kili stood up slowly, as if he hoped the teacher would change his mind and play along; but not this time. Despite knowing the boy didn't actually mean it, Bard decided he could not let this one slip. Oh yes, he deeply loved his students, he enjoyed having a good laugh over their pranks from time to time and his attitude made him one of the most appreciated teachers of the school, but sometimes, when things went too far, he had to do his job. And here, he was a inch from getting angry. 

A few more seconds and Kili was out of the room, quickly followed by Fili who, as usual, didn't want his younger brother to get a punishment he deserved too in some way. Much to Bard's relief, the bell rang thirty minutes later, and he quickly headed for the teachers' room, gathered his stuff to leave and prepared to go home. The Bowman family would eat some spaghetti, talk a bit about their days and then Bard would finally be off to bed.

He left the school at 5:42 P.M. for he hadn't been able to avoid the usual talks with his colleagues, Percy being the _very_ talkative kind, and that was when things got worse when he thought it wasn't actually possible. As he marched along the building corridors, there was an excited scream far above his head which made him stop in surprise, and with reason, sudden fear. _Oh no._

“INK BOOOMBS!”

As Bard made to look up something hit his shoulder and black ink splattered his light blue flannel shirt, neck and even a bit of his cheek. To be honest, Bard didn't know if he wanted to scream or cry in desperation as his eyes went from the two heads looking down from a third floor window to the mess that was now his shirt.

“HOLY SHIT WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” one of the two students exclaimed, giving the other a slap behind the head. “YOU HIT PROFESSOR BOWMAN YOU DUMBASS!”

This day just kept going from bad to worse.

*

Now, as Thranduil walked down the street towards his home which was “only” a twenty minute walk from his salon, he began to reminisce on his day. He’d woken up late that morning and had a fight with Legolas about how he should have woken his father up in time and _who_ was that small, half-naked tattooed red-haired guy on his sofa? He’d then slipped in mud and sprayed his coffee all over his shirt which meant he had to go back inside and change. Then his car broke down and when he got to the salon the water boiler would not work at lunchtime. To top it all off, his clients for the better part of the day, had been unbearable.

Still, despite all this he had a feeling that things would start looking up. But no, of course he had to see his ex-lover, Elrond, sitting in a window seat at the local Starbucks, drinking coffee with his new _boyfriend_.

Thranduil turned and walked a few steps back to the florist’s, staring at the flowers and wondering how the hell he was going to pass by unseen, and what in heavens had he done to deserve all this? This was the only way home, he didn't have anything to hide his face, and his hair had the unwelcome effect of drawing attention to him all the time. Elrond would spot him for sure.

What was the matter, you'd ask? The matter was that it was a secret to no-one, and definitely not Elrond, that their break up had not been a nice time for Thranduil and had made him miserable, particularly for the first few months. If Elrond had to see him, Thranduil wanted him to see how well he was moving on and that he didn't need him anymore. For that, he had to do something. But what? Just as he wondered what the hell he could do, the bell hanging at the door rang and from the corner of his eye, Thranduil caught a glimpse of Elrond and his boyfriend coming out of the coffeeshop, hand in hand, and heading right in his direction.

_Shit._

_Shit shit shit!_ Thranduil looked around, caught sight of a man looking a bit depressed—handsome too, despite the black splashes all over his upper right body—and most importantly, coming his way. So, Thranduil grabbed the first flower bouquet he could reach, put on his best smile, and as soon as the brunet got close enough, Thranduil opened his arms at the stranger. _What the hell was he doing?_

“Babe, you're here!” he said, loud enough for Elrond to hear as he just went for it—despite his brain screaming he didn't even know the guy and what if he wasn't into men and what if he was a jerk or something and just _what the hell?_ —and _kissed_ the dark haired man as if his life depended on it, in a desperate way which was reflected in the stranger's kis... kissing? Yes, definitely. After a moment of shock as his body had stiffened, the man was _kissing back_. His lips were much softer than they looked and tasted like strong coffee and damn, he was quite the good kisser, and Thranduil found himself thinking he didn't want it to stop, ever.

Someone then cleared their throat and the man gently pushed Thranduil back, grinning awkwardly, all the desperation his face had worn a minute before now gone. Not far from them, Elrond and his boyfriend were staring with raised eyebrows. Putting on his best acting skills, Thranduil extended the flowers to the brunet with a gentle smile.

“For you, honey,” Thranduil said as the stranger took the bouquet with some hesitation, slightly opening and closing his mouth as if he didn't know what to say. Hopefully, it could easily be taken as a perfectly normal reaction from a boyfriend getting a surprise from his partner, instead of a innocent man abruptly caught up in some stranger's weird avoidance technique, or whatever it was.

“Th-Thanks... uh... love?” the dark haired man stuttered, smiling shyly. Gods, he wasn't even doing it on purpose and he looked like the perfect shy little boyfriend.

Thranduil smiled back and finally turned as if to keep on walking, only to fake surprise as his gaze met Elrond's for the first time. Which he did very well, despite his racing heart and a feeling of panic overwhelming him slowly as he realized he had no idea what to do next.

“Oh, Elrond,” he said, holding back a grimace at how odd his voice sounded. “How nice to see you.”

“Thranduil,” his ex greeted with a nod of the head, his eyes going from Thranduil to the brunet with an unreadable expression. His companion only waved his hand with an embarrassed little smile. “How are you?”

“Me?” Thranduil smirked. “Oh, I'm great, I'm wonderful, I, uh...” Thranduil wrapped an arm around the stranger's shoulders and faked a face filled with love as best as he could—and to be honest, the man looked so lost that it was incredibly adorable, so it wasn't too difficult for Thranduil to pretend fondness. “My fiancé and I were just... just...”

 _Shit_ , the stress was overcoming him. His icy-blue, slightly panicked eyes met the brunet's hazel gaze, and much to his surprise, he seemed to gather some courage and looked away to smile at Elrond.

“On our way to try some cakes for the wedding”, he said as he took Thranduil's hand to squeeze it gently. “Even if the only sweet I'll be eating that day is you, pumpkin.” He added with a mix of tenderness and teasing. And to this, he winked at Thranduil who felt himself blushing like never before. _What the freakin' hell was happening exactly?_

*

Bard blushed as well right after: he was not used to saying such things to complete strangers, and was surprised by his boldness, but well, it was apparently needed. What was he doing? He had gone from being the victim of ink bombs, walking back home thinking about how much the day sucked, to kissing a beautiful stranger, holding hands and pretending he was going to marry him. Just, _what the hell?_

At least the situation wasn't really complicated to figure out: the blond had obviously been trying to improvise some show to the black haired man who had to be his ex, in order to make him jealous or to make him believe he was dealing well or something of the sort. What else could it be? Of course, he had to plump for Bard, but if the teacher had to be honest, he would say he was far from feeling the urge to complain. Even though he felt quite awkward by all this. After all, he had _kissed back_. A _stranger_. Gods, he definitely needed a good night's rest.

All the while, the so-called Elrond looked as if he had not idea what to do, how to react to his ex suddenly appearing in front of him, kissing some guy and announcing they were fiancés. It had to be unexpected news if his look was anything to go by. You bet it was.

“Erm, shouldn't we go, love?” the other man asked tentatively, looking fondly at his boyfriend.

“Yes. Yes, sorry, Lindir.” Elrond gave another nod of his head as he took Lindir's hand in his. “Nice meeting you. Bye, Thranduil.”

They took a few steps away before Elrond turned, smirking and raising a finger as if he had forgotten to say something. “Oh and, congratulations. Don't forget to invite us.”

Once they were far enough, the so-called Thranduil let out a heavy sigh and turned to him, looking sheepish despite the tops of his ears being adorably red. Thranduil let go of him, clasping his hands behind his back as Bard put the flowers back in place before the florist asked them to pay for the bouquet—it was expensive as hell. They grinned awkwardly at each other and Thranduil bit his bottom lip, looking straight into Bard’s eyes apologetically.

“Uh, thanks,” he started and Bard could just _feel_ it wasn't common from him to be so hesitant. He looked more like a self-confident man than anything else. “I'm sorry. For the kiss, and everything. I was having a bad day and not thinking straight and I didn't know what to do and I just... went for it, I guess.”

Bard raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile playing on his lips, but his gaze was understanding. “Tell me about it...” he replied with a sigh and gestured to his ruined shirt. “Well, it _was_ a shitty day.”

Thranduil frowned, crossing his arms, eyes curious and questioning. “Was?”

“Aye.” Bard grinned, feeling his heart go faster as he repeated to himself what he wanted to say. He actually meant it, but he knew very well how it could sound. “I have to say that I'm not. Sorry, I mean. I'm not sorry.”

“About what?” Thranduil asked as his eyes wandered all over Bard's form, stopping on his old briefcase that screamed 'teacher' which probably answered his question about the ink and the taste of black coffee on his lips.

Bard took a deep breath and smiled, but it ended up much more shy than usual. “About the kiss.” Before he could stop himself, Bard continued, “And well, I _am_ sorry, but for that guy, because leaving you was probably the biggest mistake of his life.”

The blush that quickly spread all over Thranduil's cheeks was worth all the awkwardness Bard was feeling right now and he quelled the urge to run away before he could make a bigger fool of himself. Not to mention he could feel his own cheeks getting quite hot as well. He didn't know what was coming over him exactly, he just knew this guy was gorgeous—were those hair and eyes and legs and that _face_ even real?—and cute at the same time, that he kissed damn well and he had managed to make him forget his awful day, which was not an easy task.

“I'm Bard, by the way.” Bard smiled softly, not waiting for any answer to his previous statement: the blush said it all.

“Nice to meet you, Bard.” Thranduil got some of his composure back as he straightened himself, grinning like an idiot. Not that Bard looked better, that being said. How could his name sound so perfect when spoken by Thranduil's deep voice, he had no idea, but Bard found he liked it very much.

They stood there in silence for a few seconds that seemed to be hours, none of them apparently ready to make to first move to go on separate ways. It was Thranduil who finally broke the silence by clearing his throat and somehow managing to make it sound no less regal.

“I owe you one, though. Let me thank you properly with a coffee or something? Maybe dinner?”

“Dinner sounds nice.” Bard smiled, hoping his blushing had faded a little before he opened his briefcase to take out a pen. Then he grabbed Thranduil's hand gently and wrote his number down on the soft skin, making sure not to put too much pressure on it. “Here. Just give me a call.”

And with that, as he didn't have anything to lose and it was nothing compared to a few minutes before, Bard went up on his tiptoes and kissed Thranduil's cheek before walking away, grinning like the biggest idiot on Earth.

Except for Thranduil, of course, who was touching the spot where Bard had kissed him.

Yes, this day was _definitely not_ that shitty.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do my ficlets always look like first chapters, mmh?
> 
> Full prompt is here http://lorien-leaf.tumblr.com/post/114878051410/modern-au-barduil-where-thranduil-is-walking-down and comes right from the mind of lorien-leaf. I made it much less hot than the original idea, I hope you won't mind too much ;w;
> 
> Thank you so much to Leiklak for editing this in such a "short" amount of time-I finished it only a few hours ago-which has been one hell of a ride! XD She also happens to be one of the two great people I had planned to dedicate this little fic to, ahah. You're both awesome and I wish you the best :3 ♥


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